


I Dream of Your Arms Around Me

by icandrawamoth



Series: Heartbeats [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Heartbeats, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Making Love, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Tumblr Prompt, background Wes/Hobbie, title from SHeDAISY's 'Come Home Soon'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Later, when they're lying in the tiny bed side by side, Tycho half on top of Wedge, the blond looks up at him and smiles, and Wedge decides there's nowhere else he'd rather be.Or, five times Wedge and Tycho shared a bed and one time they didn't.





	I Dream of Your Arms Around Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hippydeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippydeath/gifts).



> For hippydeath, who wanted Wedge and Tycho bedsharing for the 5+1 fic meme. <3

i.

The first time Wedge and Tycho share a bed, it's grudgingly.

It's not long after the Battle of Yavin, after Tycho has joined them, and Red Squadron is escorting a group of freighters delivering aid supplies to a tiny Outer Rim world. They exceed their maximum number of flying hours on the trip and end up having to spend the night, but it turns out the locals weren't prepared for this. The village that welcomes them offers a handful of empty huts, but the number requires the pilots to double up.

It's fine. They're professionals, they're used to doing what they have to.

Yet the tiny building, maybe a half a dozen paces across and holding only a single bed and clothes rack, is stiffly silent as Tycho and Wedge strip off their jackets and flight suits.

“I can take the floor,” Wedge offers.

“It's fine,” Tycho tells him. “We can share.”

They lay down in the dark, Tycho against the wall and Wedge as far to the other side of the thin mattress as he can manage without falling off.

After several minutes of quiet breathing, Tycho says acidly, “I know you don't like me, but I'm not going to bite you, you know.”

Wedge stiffens. “Celchu-”

“It's _Tycho_.”

Wedge grits his teeth, forces himself to inch back from the edge just a little. “Satisfied?”

“Whatever.” Tycho falls silent.

They don't speak again, even as they rise and prepare themselves the next morning.

ii.

The first time they do it by choice, it's awkward but joyful.

Months have passed, and they've grown closer. Tycho survives mission after mission, and Wedge begins to let himself believe the newcomer (not so new now) isn't going to die like so many. Wedge talks to him.

They have a lot in common. They _like_ each other. A lot.

One night as they walk back to their rooms, Tycho kisses Wedge at his door. Then he invites him inside. Wedge smiles and takes his hand, and though his heart is pounding, he goes.

When the door closes behind them, though, Tycho whispers a confession: he's never done this. He'd had a fiancee back on Alderaan, a girl he'd known since childhood, the only person he'd ever been interested in, and they'd been waiting to consummate their relationship until marriage. So, will Wedge take the lead?

And Wedge does, hands trembling with a heady combination of nerves and want. It's been awhile for him, and he wants to make this good. He lays Tycho out on the tiny, bumpy regulation bunk and touches him everywhere, drinking in the surprised and pleasured sounds he makes. Accepting back tentative, exploratory touches that steadily grow more confident.

Then they're both naked and Wedge begins to prepare him with the lube Tycho presses on him with a shaky hand, steady and easy lest he cause any discomfort. But Tycho is eager now, straining against him and begging to be filled.

Wedge gives him what he wants, slicking himself and pressing in – perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Tycho cries out, clenches around him, and Wedge murmurs an apology, gentles his approach. It takes some doing, but eventually they find a rhythm that works for both of them, smooth, even thrusts from Wedge that Tycho meets each time with some of the most beautiful sounds Wedge has ever heard.

It doesn't take long for them to peak together, and later, when they're lying in the tiny bed side by side, Tycho half on top of Wedge, the blond looks up at him and smiles, and Wedge decides there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

iii.

On Hoth, no one even blinks.

The barracks are as freezing cold as the rest of the Force-forsaken place, and people share bunks like it's nothing. Another body beside yours is the best heating device in the galaxy, to speak nothing of the emotional comfort it provides. Whether it's lovers, friends, or simply two people cold enough not to care, only half the beds are filled on any given night.

Wedge is shy at first, starting the night under his own covers and only slipping in beside Tycho once the lights have gone out and the breaths of most of their comrades have gone slow and even. But after a week or so, he gets into bed only to have Tycho crawl in right beside.

“Saves time,” Tycho murmurs at his questioning look and gives him a quick kiss. “And it's not like they don't already know about us.”

“We _know_ ,” Wes assures from the next bunk over, raising an eyebrow. “Just do us the courtesy of being quiet.”

Wedge blushes all the way to the roots of his hair as Tycho shoots back, “Same to you,” and Hobbie's face appears over Wes's shoulder, grinning madly.

iv.

On Endor's sanctuary moon, it can hardly be called a bed.

The shelter they've been directed to holds nothing but a pile of leaves and moss in the middle – it's strangely reminiscent of the first time they were so close. Tycho doesn't hesitate to back Wedge onto it, eyes sparkling like they've been imbued with the embers of the fire they've been dancing around for hours.

“You were amazing today,” Tycho murmurs as he pulls the flaps of Wedge's sweat-damp flight suit apart, kissing bared skin as he goes.

“You, too,” Wedge manages as he gets a hand in his hair and surges up to kiss him again.

Tycho pulls back, teeth flashing in the low light as he grins. “We're both pretty amazing.”

Wedge flips them, tangling himself in his loosened flight suit and causing a puff of leaves to rain down in the air around them. When they're done chuckling, he says, “I think our amazingness deserves a celebration.”

“I can think of a few things,” Tycho agrees thoughtfully.

Wedge kisses him.

v.

After _Lusankya_ , they're desperate.

Wedge spent six months not knowing if Tycho was dead or alive. Six months of being unable to grieve, fragile hope fighting to survive even as he waited for the hammer to fall. Then two more of agony as he watched from behind a transparisteel barrier as Tycho was interrogated by his own people, questioned repeatedly, many that he couldn't begin to answer as much as he wanted to.

Tycho gave them everything, and still they called him a spy, a danger. It made Wedge burn with anger watching the way he was treated. He did everything he could get the man he loved free.

And finally, the day comes. There are no more questions. There's no proof that Tycho has been altered in any way. There's no way they can keep him locked up in good faith, and they agree to release him into Wedge's care.

For long moments, the two of them just stand there, locked in each other's embrace on the steps of NRI headquarters. Finally, Tycho looks up and Wedge watches as he gazes over the everyday street before them, landspeeders and pedestrians and food vendors and trees and sky. Things he hasn't seen for the better part of a year.

Wedge slides his hand into Tycho's. “You're free. What do you want to do?”

Tycho looks at him, and the things he's been through haven't dulled his smile, haven't made him shy. “You have someplace we can go?”

Wedge catches his meaning instantly, ducking his head slightly as the smile catches on his own face. “I've been renting an apartment since I got back from my tour. It was lonely without you.”

Tycho squeezes his hand and says softly, “Take me there.”

All sense of teasing is gone once they're alone. Their touches are drawn-out and soft, Wedge painfully aware of how long it's been since Tycho has had this, since he had gentle touch of any kind. It shows in the way he moves, swaying into every contact even as he tries not to – a learned behavior to avoid pain, Wedge thinks with an internal shiver.

Then they're in bed, Wedge preparing him slow and thorough even as Tycho whimpers and begs. When Wedge finally eases into him, there are tears on both their faces, mingling as they kiss.

“I missed you,” Tycho whispers on a sigh.

“I love you,” Wedge answers.

i.

Sometimes their beds are cities or planets or systems apart, but that doesn't mean they're alone.

The little gadgets started out as a joke. Wedge found them cheap while browsing an as-seen-on-the-HoloNet shop during a mission and brought them to Tycho with a sheepish smile. Tycho had gently ribbed him for being a sappy romantic but agreed that they would give the devices a try the next time their duties took them away from each other.

Surprisingly, the little things worked, and afterward they become a staple whenever Wedge and Tycho were separated.

Times like this, Tycho off with Rogue Squadron on the _Mon Remonda_ looking for Zsinj while Wedge and the Wraiths play pirate on Halmad.

It's been a long, long couple of days, death still fresh in the air of Hawk-bat Base, and Wedge is exhausted in every conceivable way as he finally makes his way to his quarters, undresses, and flops down onto his bunk. He has the strength, though, to take the little square of plastic and metal from a bedside drawer. It's little more than a speaker connected to a power source and the miniature comm equipment needed to communicate with the cuff Wedge wears and its mate on Tycho's wrist.

Wedge activates the unit and slides it under his pillow, smiling as the soothing sound begins to play: Tycho's heartbeat, transmitted across the stars like he's lying right beside Wedge in bed.

Wedge checks to make sure his own wristband is still powered and transmitting before settling down for the night, nuzzling into his pillow and the familiar, comforting rhythm. When Tycho joins him in slumber, he'll hear the beat of Wedge's heart in his ear, too, the two of them together in every way that counts, even if their bodies are far apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, they're using [these](http://www.littleriot.com/pillow-talk/) in the last bit, because I've had them in my back pocket to use in a fic _forever_ and finally pulled them out.


End file.
